


Nicked

by catarrhini



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Corporal Punishment, Durincest, Incest, M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-24
Updated: 2013-01-24
Packaged: 2017-11-26 17:46:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/652827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catarrhini/pseuds/catarrhini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fíli's hijinks in Rivendell leave Kíli less than impressed. He takes his brother firmly to task.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nicked

From his balcony in the Last Homely House, the enchanted valley of Rivendell opened before Kíli like crashing waves frozen in the timelessness of the strange place. The waning sun set orangey pink behind the tall, rising rifts of stone that protected the land from the crude world beyond, as the last amber rays filtered down the white stone spines, balconies and arches of the great House. A quiet calm settled on the Dwarf, who found such peace strange in a place with such open skies and so very many Elves.  
  
At length, his thoughts meandered to his kinsmen’s quest, to replenishing his store of arrows, to his implacable uncle, to his own stunted beard. He lost track of how long he had been standing alone on the balcony, but the sun was very nearly set and he could see tall, ethereal figures in sweeping silver robes on the paths below carrying delicate torches to light lanterns along the stone walkways.  
  
The door to his guest chamber snicked softly open and shut, drawing him from his thoughts. He turned to his temporary living quarters to be greeted by the delightedly guilty face of his older brother. Conspiratorially, Fíli whispered, “You’ll never believe what I just nicked” and shoved a sack against Kíli’s stomach. Fíli positively brimmed with poorly concealed mirth, a self-satisfied smirk twisting the braids of his mustache.  
  
A grin stealing over his own face, Kíli replied, “Would that it were some mutton and potatoes and not those poxy Elvish greens, brother!” He quickly loosened the ties and uncovered his brother’s pilfered bounty. Kíli froze as the smile left his face. “Durin’s beard, you did not.” Fíli was practically bouncing on his toes.  
  
“Indeed, I did, brother!” His eyes were alight, as Kíli tore his gaze from the contents of the sack. Fíli wilted visibly when he realized his brother was not joining him in mirth. “Oh, what is it, Kíli? Lost your sense of humor?” The fire of consternation burning in him, Kíli wrested Lord Elrond’s circlet of office from its burlap confines.  
  
“Food or ale or even sodding soaps would be one thing, Fíli, but this?” He gestured with the head-dress for emphasis. “This isn’t funny. We are not thieves. I don’t care how you obtained this, but you will do whatever is necessary to return it.” He thrust the circlet back into the sack and shoved it into his brother’s hands.  
  
Fíli stood slack-jawed, dumbfounded that his prank had not been well-received. “What is with you, brother? I thought you would enjoy a good joke after what we’ve been through.”  
  
“I distrust the elves as much as you do, but whether we like it or not, they have offered us asylum. They have fed us, cleaned our clothing, given us comfortable shelter and offered us council, all for nothing in return from us. And you repay them by humiliating their Lord? As a member of the proud line of Durin and heir to the Throne-Under-The-Mountain, you’ve disappointed yourself, brother.”  
  
“Aulë’s tits, Kíli, you sound more like Uncle Thorin with each passing day,” he growled dismissively, as he turned to leave, nearly tripping over Kíli’s pack at the foot of the bed. Kíli fiercely gripped his brother’s arm, jerking him back into place.  
  
“Is that so?” he asked dangerously. Something in his brother’s tone gave Fíli great pause. “Well, perhaps I should start acting like him, as well? If you insist on parading around like you were still a child, perhaps I should administer the same discipline of which Uncle Thorin so approved.” Fíli’s eyes grew wide.  
  
“You wouldn’t dare.”  
  
“Wouldn’t I?”  
  
“I wouldn’t let you.”  
  
“Maybe I should see what Uncle Thorin thinks, then.” Each brother was trying stoically to stare the other down, their mouths twisted into challenging grimaces. Kíli’s grip on his brother’s bicep grew in strength.  
  
“You’re going to play snitch?” Fíli challenged, but he knew the argument had already been lost.  
  
“I imagine Uncle Thorin will share my view that what you really need right now is a sound spanking,” Kíli gently replied, a grin eating its way to his face but not quite reaching his eyes. “And he’ll probably elect to administer it in the company of our peers.”  
  
“You’ve always played rotten, Kíli,” he spat as his brother closed the balcony doors and moved to lock the entrance to his quarters. Kíli lit the lamps and sconces around the room with a match from the bureau placed at the far wall, and a warm light presently filled the room.  
  
“Nay, brother,” he replied as he sat on the ornately carved chair resting in the far corner. “I’ve always played smart.” He looked up at his brother expectantly. “Well? Hand or belt?” Fíli became visibly shaken.  
  
“I can’t believe you plan on going through with this.”  
  
“Hand. Or belt?”  
  
Fíli released a deep sigh, moving complacently to join his brother in the corner of the room. “Hand,” came the grudging reply, delivered by a tight jaw and sneering lips. He stood at his brother’s bent knees, waiting for instruction. Kíli raised an expectant eyebrow. “Yeah, yeah…” Fíli murmured, unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his trousers, leaving his dingy undergarments on display. With a clink, his trousers dropped to the wooden floor. Again, he froze, squeamish under his brother’s relentless gaze. An impatient clicking of the tongue preceded Kíli grabbing his brother’s wrist and yanking him bodily onto his waiting lap.  
  
“Now,” Kíli began in a deceptively soothing voice, rucking up Fíli’s linen shirt and resting his palms on the small of Fíli’s back. “Can you tell me what you did wrong, young man?” Fíli rolled his eyes.  
  
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Keel.”  
  
“Language, young man.” He dug his nails into Fíli’s bare back.  
  
With a hiss, Fíli replied sarcastically, “I stole Lord Elrond’s jewelry and disappointed myself.” Out of spite, he was half tempted to bite the bit of calf muscle that was resting before him.  
  
“Yes, you did.” The soothing tone was frightfully humiliating Fíli, his face flushed red. “Now you will receive your punishment for your misdeeds.” Bracing himself on the floor, Fíli prepared himself for the first strike of his brother’s hand, his stomach dropping and his heart fluttering. Kíli’s hand left the small of his back and seconds later came down in a firm smack upon the tops of his covered thighs. “That’s one.”  
  
“Color me unimpressed,” was Fíli’s reply, nonchalance belied by a tightness in his throat. A second smack came as swiftly as the first. “Two,” Fíli droned.  
  
“Bored, are we?” Kíli growled, and he brought his hand down on the flesh of Fíli’s rear with real force this time, a stinging shock echoing through his hand. He reveled in his brother’s hitched breath.  
  
“Three,” Fíli growled in return.  
  
“Was that too much, little Fíli?” Kíli cooed.  
  
“Never.” The fourth spank came sharp and fast, rapidly followed by five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, a staccato burst that left the older brother feeling shaky. Kíli smoothed his hand over Fíli’s rumpled undergarments, rubbing the very sensitive sore flesh beneath. A shudder wracked Fíli’s body. “D- don’t do that,” Fíli urged, almost breathless. “It's... Just don't. Please.”  
  
“I don’t think you’re in a position to be making commands, young man,” Kíli replied lightly, continuing to sooth the angry skin.  
  
“No, really, please!” Fíli begged, and when Kíli refused to stop, he frantically shoved himself from his brother’s lap and tumbled to the floor, his pants and boots kicked off in the struggle. Kíli’s vindictive smile fell into fierce annoyance.  
  
“I wasn’t done with you, mister,” he said, dangerously quiet. He bent down and grabbed his brother by the hair at the back of his head and flung him towards the foot of the bed. “Bend over and grab the footboard.” The color in Fíli’s face had drained and he stood panting, as though he had not understood his brother’s words. “Now!” Kíli hissed. Fíli leaned over, grasping the wood in a stony grip. Kíli stood behind him and reached around to undo the single button holding his brother’s undergarments upon his slim hips. The garment puddled at his bare feet on the hard wooden floor.  
  
“Wha-? You can’t do that,” Fíli protested with rising indignation, his bare, pink ass revealed to the warm night air and his brother’s unforgiving gaze.  
  
“Don’t make me get Thorin,” Kíli threatened. “Now, bend over, or so help me Aulë, you’ll not walk for a week.” Fíli grumbled as he braced himself against the carved board. “I’m sorry, what was that?”  
  
“Yes, sir.” Knotting a fist into the linen of Fíli’s shirt, Kíli rained down several sharp slaps to the flesh of his brother’s clenched ass and trembling thighs. Fíli screwed up his eyes to fight the pain, but the brightness that exploded with each successive strike overwhelmed his senses. His body was alive with sensation. He was losing himself and when Kíli dragged his nails harshly down his bright red cheeks and tender thighs, he was helpless to the broken groan that wheezed forth from his chest.  
  
Kíli leaned down over his brother’s prostrate form and whispered waspishly into the shell of Fíli’s ear, “My dear boy, this hurts me more than it hurts you.”  
  
Something in those words, something in his brother’s scratchy clothes brushing against his singing flesh, something in the desperation of his position, something base and primal and filthy and so very wrong inside him wrung a single, shameful moan from Fíli’s treacherous lips. “Kíli!”  
  
Kíli froze, that damning moan ringing forever in his ears. He snapped to, a lone question burning in his brain, a yearning to know, to be sure. He fumbled around to his brother’s front and pressed a shaking palm against the rigid, telltale erection he hoped against all hope he would not find there. He recoiled from his brother, sensation branded into the palm of his hand. He could not raise his eyes to meet the other’s. Quiet words spilled frantically forth in a wounded voice. “That’s sick, Fíli. I’m your brother.”  
  
A dense silence fell over them, the sound of their panting breath the only break in the heavy quiet. “Yes, well, I think the sickness is hereditary, then,” Fíli said, shaking with restraint. Kíli’s eyes snapped to his brother’s, only to find Fíli intently focused on the stiffness presenting itself in Kíli’s own trousers. Kíli’s mouth dropped.  
  
“Aulë help us,” he whispered, transfixed by the tent in his trousers. Fíli stepped closer and grabbed his little brother’s hand, slowly bringing it to his lips and kissing each fingertip. Kíli watched with terrified awe. “Brother, we cannot do this.”  
  
“Who is there to stop us?” Fíli whispered into his ear. He swiped Kíli’s earlobe into his mouth with his tongue and bit softly. “We are of the line of Durin. Whose law exists above our own?”  
  
“Foul tempter!” Kíli cried, shoving Fíli onto the floor on his hands and knees. “I’ll not have you drag me down into perversion with you.”  
  
“Perhaps you should beat it out of me, eh, brother?” Fíli wheedled with a smirk, shifting his hips to give his brother a better view of his handiwork. Kíli dropped to his knees and attacked his brother’s flanks with searing slaps and the digging of fingernails and all the fury he could manage. The sight of his hands outlined in red on his brother’s shining skin nearly stopped his heart. Fíli was keening, begging for more, his legs spread and shaking, thrusting his hips forward into the air. His heart leaped when he felt his brother dig fingers into his hips and a soft wetness press against his exposed hole. He twisted his head as far as he could to be met with the image of his brother’s face buried between his red ass cheeks. “Oh, Kíli, please!”  
  
Kíli thrust his tongue into his brother, the scent and heat of him uniquely intoxicating. Kíli wrenched himself away to scramble through his pack for a flask of saddle oil, which he uncapped and poured clumsily down his brother’s crack, the oil slipping down to drip off Fíli’s balls. Slowly, Kíli thrust his middle finger into the tight ring of flesh. He reached up with the other hand under Fíli’s shirt and dragged his nails down the length of his spine. Fíli arched into the sensation. “More, Fíli?” Fíli adamantly nodded in the affirmative. A second finger and a third finger were added, and Fíli’s breath hitched. He slunk down to rest his head on his forearm and brought his hand to his cock, the head slicked already in his passion and desire.  
  
“I won’t last long, Keel. I need it.” Fíli begged. “Oh, Aulë. Give it to me, please!” Kíli pressed deeper into his brother, faster and harder, and Fíli’s moaning and gasping compelled him to unfasten his trousers with his oily, shaking hand and begin stroking his heavy, fat dick. “I need your cock, baby brother.” Yet, Kíli thrust further and more roughly with his three fingers, pulling at himself at the same pace.  
  
“Durins don’t beg, Fíli,” Kíli gasped. “Not even when they’re fucking their own brothers.” Fíli saw red and soon after pulled great, sticky splashes of come onto the floor while his ass rhythmically clenched his little brother’s fingers. “Tsk, tsk, no self-control,” Kíli chided in a heady tone. Fíli was overcome with the power of his orgasm and the sight of his brother now: eyes dilated almost black, lips parted, chest heaving and his strong arm slowly pumping pleasure through his rather thick cock, rising proudly from a parted trouser placket.  
  
Fíli rose to his knees and placed a soft kiss to his brother’s lips. “My beautiful, sweet and precious love,” he whispered, “I still need you to fuck me.” Kíli seemed lost in conflict, and Fíli dragged delicate kisses down his jaw, the line of his throat, brushing his face against his brother’s dark stubble. His hands lit lightly against Kíli’s chest, and he worked each button undone, at length sliding the shirt from Kíli’s shoulders to drop onto the floor. “Please.” Another kiss. “We are always there for each other, and I need this now more than I’ve ever needed anything from you.” Yet another kiss. “Do you not love me as I love you, Keel?”  
  
“Yes, Fíli,” Kíli replied, his will broken to his brother’s powerful need. “I love you. You’ll be the death of me, but I love you.” Fíli embraced him with a tender chuckle, and Kíli rose before his brother, a hand reaching down to him. “I’m afraid I won’t last long.”  
  
“Take your pleasure from my body. That is what I want.” In the breath of a moment, Fíli was lain on the bed, surrounded entirely by the scent of Kíli, the curtain of his hair dragging across skin as he kissed his way down his brother’s body. Kíli pressed his hungry mouth across the insides of his brother’s tender thighs.  
  
“I’m afraid I treated you too brutally,” Kíli sighed, delicately licking the redness of his brother’s rear.  
  
“I loved every second of it, Keel,” Fíli swore. “Aulë, Kíli. Take me now.” After a chaste kiss, Kíli pushed his needy, rigid cock into Fíli’s body, a groan pried from his lips. He lifted Fíli’s legs by the backs of his knees and rested them on his shoulders, trapping them in place as he leaned over to thrust his hips down roughly.  
  
“Ah, Fíli,” Kíli whimpered, pistoning his hips, his balls slapping against Fíli’s red, sore ass. As he pumped, he turned his head to nuzzle Fíli’s leg, taking a soft bite of the calf. He dug his fingers into the bed sheets just as his orgasm began to overtake him. “Fíli- Love you. So much.” With a few strained, shallow thrusts he came hard. Fíli dropped his legs, and Kíli collapsed on top of him, nuzzling his face into the haven of his brother's neck.  
  
“And just what do you think you’re doing?” Fíli softly asked, stroking his brother’s hair out of his face.  
  
“Delaying reality,” Kíli grumbled into his brother’s shoulder.  
  
“You aren’t going to let yourself feel guilty over this, are you?” He kissed Kíli’s temple.  
  
“A life-shattering question, so softly spoken. Let’s just sleep until supper is ready,” Kíli answered. “I don’t want to talk about guilt while my cock is still inside you.” With a sweet kiss, the two shifted and snuggled into the plush blankets, falling into deep sleep.  
  


 **That Evening**  
  
Kíli picked through yet another boring salad, the stuffy harp and flute music the Lord of Imladris seemed to hold so dearly nearly lulling him into reverie. He sipped at the strong wine and pined for some good ale, at least, to help wash down all the rather uninspiring roughage his company had been served. Across the table, Fíli seemed to be enjoying the same fate even less, as he shifted to and fro, a pained expression on his face.  
  
Thorin had been speaking for some time, but his nephews had been lost in their own thoughts until Thorin hailed Nori with a pointed glare, “And it has come to my attention that Lord Elrond will appreciate the return of a misplaced circlet of which I’m sure you know nothing.” Nori spluttered and shook his head in indignation as Fíli squirmed yet more.  
  
“Fíli, sister-son,” Thorin’s voice broke over the weary table like a wave of stone. “Do you need to excuse yourself to the restroom?” Fíli’s elders at the table broke into a rough chorus of indulgent laughter.  
  
“I- No.” Fíli looked across the table to his uncle, cheeks fallen a deep shade of red. A small smile lit Kíli’s lips as he recognized that shade from another area of his brother’s anatomy. Fíli glared mutiny at him, eyes vowing to never give himself over to Kíli again. Kíli smirked even deeper, silently calling his brother’s wordless bluff.  
  
After all, Fíli had said it himself: he’d loved every second of it.


End file.
